


The Temptation of the Football Team

by agatharights



Category: Fantastic Four
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, ambiguous canon, college shenanigans, drunken decisions, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agatharights/pseuds/agatharights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In college, Victor goes to Ben's party with Reed so Reed doesn't have to go alone. The night quickly goes completely to shit. Contains all of a single handjob. Not Beta'd!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Temptation of the Football Team

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry I was trying to write a dumb mini-drabble and it wound up a full length fic?

Victor didn’t drink. He’d had the occasional sip of beer that made him cringe, and sometimes he considered himself particularly refined and had a glass of wine pilfered from somebody else’s stock in the dorms, but for the most part he just didn’t. He couldn’t see the appeal in it, not when he saw other students unable to think straight or staggering back to their rooms at ungodly hours, or worse, staggering out of their rooms at ungodly hours with bile on their breath and sunken eyes and the sweats.

So he just avoided it. That was easy, considering his lack of social interaction. Even the one person he seemed to bother associating with, Reed, avoided drinking right beside him. Grades were more important than the occasional party.

Now, considering all of this, why was he here? Why had he arrived here, how had he even deigned to this…this…”carnal display of frivolity.”

Reed glanced at him, and he realized he’d spoken that last bit, muttered under his breath. The two of them were pressed backs to the wall, watching as Ben and the others from the football team chatted and laughed, flushed and holding red plastic cups that kept spilling over their fingers, leaving amber drops on the floor.

Victor wondered how any of them could even talk with the pounding music, devoid of any sense of lyrics or pleasant tones, and Reed gave him an apologetic smile.

"I’m so sorry." Reed muttered, adjusting his glasses, looking…discomforted, squinting. What was even the point of having the lights so dim? "You really didn’t have to come with, I shouldn’t have asked-"

"No, no, I will not have this be a pity party." Victor cut him off, raising a hand and shaking his head. "I agreed to come because you looked positively sick at the idea of coming alone, and now I will suffer this in solidarity with you, no matter how terrible an idea it was."

Reed smiled, and Victor managed a half-smile back, and looked up in time to see Ben’s bulk approaching. Ben wasn’t…insufferable, really. Not Victor’s type of associate, but still. Tall and broad Ben, compared to tall and lean Victor and…skinny Reed. Oh well. Not everybody could have muscle.

"Come on, you two!" Ben boomed, his grin wide and eyes sparkling with the haze of mild intoxication. He shoved two plastic cups into their hands and they frantically grabbed them before they wound up with beer spilled down their fronts, Victor glaring and Reed smiling sheepishly. "Reed, thank you so much for actualy getting out of your room for once."

"N-no problem."

"Vic…uh, thanks for coming?" Ben tried. Victor grumbled that his name was victor and not to call him vic but he was certain Ben didn’t hear him. "Now, you two drink up, okay? We’ve got some sorority sisters coming over from their own party in a bit, and I don’t want you two crabcakes scaring them off!"

He laughed, but Victor felt pretty solidly that he was sincere about the risk of them scaring off the women. He glared at the cup in his hands, then realized with a start that Reed was drinking his, cringing.

"…Oh god." Reed grumbled, wincing. "…Do you see anywhere I could dump this without Ben noticing?"

"Nowhere in sight, unless we were to sleuth our way into the bathroom."

"Damn." Reed sighed..and took another sip. Victor did so as well, and with impressive effort he swallowed hard and he and Reed gently tapped their cups together in cheers. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, after all?

They finished those cups, and then had seconds. Reed was faring worse than Victor, but Victor already felt he could hear his heartbeat in his ears along with the music. When the girls arrived, Victor couldn’t really focus on them, but they had bought their own selection of drinks and he mixed things together until he had something palatable. It wasn’t long after when he realized that Reed was looking unfortunately flushed and couldn’t seem to do much more than sit and stare aimlessly.

He got Reed to the door, and one of the girls (who had introduced herself as the designated driver) had offered to walk him back to his room. Poor boy couldn’t hold a thing, but whatever went on in Reed’s head was clearly the worse culprit to the alcohol’s effect.

As soon as Richards was gone, Victor suddenly felt a heat in his chest. He was alone at this party, suddenly. Very, very alone. And although he knew it was whatever he had in the cup he was drinking from (what even was it? He didn’t remember the recipe, but it was sweet enough that he winced from the sting of sour and sugar instead of the alcohol) and not really himself, he swallowed hard and rubbed his face. He was always so alone.

He never pursued anyone, he never saw anyone. He spent his holidays at the school because what family did he have? Nothing! He had no friends, no loved ones, no-one would help him back to the dorm room except for a stranger if he had to leave… he found a couch and sat upon it, breath shaky.

Reed would’ve walked him back, if he hadn’t had to leave already. Reed probably would do a lot for him, if he’d just ask, he thought in a way that he always denied when sober. He thought about going to their room, maybe he could talk to Reed now, when his tongue was loose and the thought of the other young man made his heart pound, but…no.

he couldn’t. He groaned and leaned back into the stinking couch cushions and tired not to think about the horrors that had occurred on this furniture before, courtesy of the football team.

"What’s up?" The hulking mass next to him asked, and he realized it was Ben. Ben would’ve helped him back to his room, too, he thought. Ben with the baby-blue eyes and the big smile and the huge, heavy hands with a surprisingly gentle touch. For a time, he’d thought that Ben and Reed were…no. But no, neither of them were like that, like him.

They couldn’t be. That would mean something was right with the world, for once.

"Noh’theeng" Victor slurred, and realized how strong his accent had come through, and Ben’s eyebrows went up.

"…What?"

"Ah, fuck- it’s, I try not to speek like so-" But the words felt clumsy in his mouth. "Fuck." He hung his head in his hand, mortified, and Ben laughed.

"Hey, I like it! You should sound f-foriegn more often! Chicks fuckin’ love that shit!"

Before Victor could stop himself, he replied with “I don’t want chicks.” and it came out so firm and dark in tone that the meaning was clear, and Ben sat up a little straighter.

"…oh."

"Fuck." Victor mumbled, then he cursed, not in English but in a mixture of things, and Ben stared.

"…If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure Reed’s that…that thing where you like dick and pussy. Bisexual?" Ben stumbled over his words as well, a touch slurred.

Victor still reacted like he’d been electrocuted.

"…vha?"

"Yeah! Oh, shit, I shouldn’t…here, lets go to the balcony, I’m not gonna talk shit where people can overhear-" Ben stood and grabbed Victor’s arm, dragging the slender man behind him. Victor allowed it, head buzzing with curiosity.

The balcony turned out to be a poor choice, as Victor had attempted to sit on the railing and instead nearly fallen off it like a completely useless idiot and derailed Ben describing some story about Reed in High School and Ben had caught him with a startling strike of reflexes. He’d been pressed to Ben’s chest and then he’d pushed himself up and pushed his lips against Ben’s…

For a moment, the entire world tasted like cheap beer and sourness and it smelled like sweat and cloying aftershave, and it felt like a breathing, rumbling mountain of man. It was a hell of a good moment. Ben didn’t push him away, and instead the kiss ended naturally.

Victor was sure Ben said something, but he couldn’t hear, his ears ringing with embarrassment as he broke free of the heavy arms and fled back inside, mortified. Beyond mortified. He realized he’d dropped his cup outside and in a sluggish, amazingly intoxicated decision he justified that clearly he should be far more drunk and thus unable to feel any of this shame at all.

The pretty young woman who was pouring drinks for people stared at him when he growled in an accent someone commented upon after he spoke as being ‘luxurious’ and then did as he asked.

"I need to stop thinking."

She poured him a series of shots. He didn’t know if Ben came back inside or not, but once others saw the shotglasses come out he was jostled by people on all sides who cheered as he poured them down his throat, ignoring the way they burned and the stinging in his eyes, and heavy hands patted him on the back as he gagged once, then kept it down, suppressing the urge to vomit.

Shots kept being poured for others. The rest of the night…he wouldn’t remember very well. There was pounding music and the smell of bodies and a dozen mixing perfumes and colognes. A woman with dark hair and sweat beading down the top of her breasts tried to dance with him, and he’d clumsily apologized and refused and she’d told him, verbatim

"OH MY GOD YOU KNOW WHO TOTALLY LIKES DICK? JOE! JOE, COME OVER HERE AND DANCE WITH VIC!"

Things were out of control. He felt peoples’ bodies through their clothes, and the warmth of a pelvis against his ass as somebody held him from behind. He tasted lips, several of them, all of them tainted and burning with alcohol and sweat. He smelled sex, saw fingers dipping beneath the waistbands of particularly adventurous men and women, but didn’t participate. Instead, after some point he realized his lips hurt and his face itched and he wanted to go to bed.

So he left, hoping that nobody would notice. Ben tried to stop him, to talk to him, and he’d told him to go fuck himself all the way back to the party and then stumbled off. Some of the earliest drinks had started burning through his system, he thought, feeling clearer in thought without the noise and the strangers pressing in from all sides.

He made it all the way into the room before he tripped and fell on his face, waking up Reed, who sat up blearily and stared. Victor wondered if he could just lay on the floor forever, on that scratchy, godforsaken dorm carpeting, and maybe Reed wouldn’t notice that he looked like seven shades of shit.

"…Victor? Hey…what time is it?" Reed was up. Shit. He let the skinny roomate help him up, grunting and sighing. "Oh my God, you look…uh…Have fun at the party?" Reed got him to sit on the edge of his bed, and Victor stared at him.

"…It was awful. Loud. Disgusting."

"Ac arnal display of frivolity?” Reed giggled a little, nervously, and Victor realized he was still probably a little drunk himself, despite his sleeping. “…sorry I ditched. I just had to get away from all that noise-“

Victor kissed Reed. He’d intended for it to be soft, gentle, but instead it was hard and it hurt his lips- they’d already been nibbled and brushed against enough stubble for the night. But Reed…Reed’s lips were so soft, and after a moment of confusion he realized Reed was kissing him back, however awkwardly, gripping the front of his shirt.

"Victor-?" Reed started when he pulled back, and Victor kissed him again. He was bored of talking, of always talking with Reed and never doing a damn thing. He pushed and pulled until Reed was laid back on his bed and he was over him, his tongue sloppy and hot in Reed’s mouth, his slender fingers which he thought of as being so skilled and talented failing to open a damn button and fly.

He couldn’t imagine possibly being angrier that Reed had fallen asleep with his pants on instead of changing before bed.

He pulled back, sitting up over Reed whose lips were parted and whose breathing was fast, looking him over before reaching down and with a sudden burst of force he pulled the crotch of his slacks open, popping off the button and half-tearing the zipper.

"JESUS-" Reed yelped, but Victor didn’t care, focused on the bulge under Reed’s briefs. He leaned back over him and kissed again, without the sense to realize how clumsy he was as their teeth clicked against each other, pressing a damp hand into Reed’s boxers and grasping him, firmly, muffling the slender man’s yelp.

It didn’t last long, his palms sweat-slick from dancing and the burn of intoxication and nervousness that had been building over the entire night. Reed bucked weakly and moaned as Victor stroked and he came over his roomate’s hand.

Reed lay bonelessly as Victor stared at his hand and the pearly mess on his fingers, thoughts sluggish and slow…he was only pulled from them when he realized Reed had passed clean out, softly snoring with every slow, even breath. His glasses were…somewhere. Victor didn’t know. He licked one of his fingers clean then, overcome with a sense of satisfaction and numbness overwhelming the sensation of his own half-hard cock, he wiped the rest on the blankets and lay next to Reed.

He had intended to watch, a little, to see Reed sleep, but instead it was as if he blinked and suddenly he was awake, everything hurt, and when he sat up he was alone in bed and overcome with such a wave of nausea that he didn’t understand what was happening until he was sitting, his clothes and blanket a mess of vomit and sweat.

It hurt to think, to see the lights on, and when Reed gingerly stepped back in the door and whispered- “oh, shit, Victor-” Victor went into a pointless tirade about JUST SHUT UP RICHARDS OH GOD MY HEAD FUCK IM GOING TO

He threw up again before he could make it to the door, and Reed helped him to the showers, but neither of them said a thing. If Reed remembered, he was waiting for Victor to say something, and Victor said nothing, feeling a pounding pain, a dry mouth and sore throat, and burning shame he couldn’t seem to shake.

He didn’t care that it was awkward or that Reed kept giving him odd and lingering looks. he was angry for days afterwards, and the second anybody tried to ask him about the party he sent them running with glares and growls and bellowed cursing.

Ben somehow managed to not say anything either, although he did give Victor his much-wanted space.


End file.
